


insignificant

by ungodlyi



Series: introspective ii [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oikawa Tooru-centric, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungodlyi/pseuds/ungodlyi
Summary: An analytical study of Oikawa through snippets, notes && one-shot entries.
Series: introspective ii [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167686
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. known association of the grand king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i honestly don’t know what this is????? It was supposed to be a character study by comparing oikawa to things i associate with him BUT it just turned into rabbles???? I don’t know what this is but i just finished it at whatever the hell time it is and it’s unedited so if something is spelt wrong pls don’t attack me !!!  
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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐊 𝐍 𝐄 𝐄⠀⠀⠀𝐏 𝐀 𝐃

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knee pads were supposed to protect you. they were made to protect your knees from causing harm to your body if you ever chose to fall or were unable to overcome a difficult obstacle. oikawa loathed what his knee pad stood for. singular. because his other knee pad was replaced by a brace. it stood for his inability to cope under stress or with threats. the brunette had always been driven, except this time, he’s driven by spite. he’s infected with a disease that controls him the way a puppeteer would control his puppets. he had never felt so helpless as he allow his inner demons to tug him along for the ride. his knee pad symbolises his weakness. it retells the story of the angel who feel to hell, trying to crawl his way back to his home in the heavens. except, he never made it. oikawa never made it home. he never made it past finals, beaten down the guardian of the gates who reminded him that he was nurtured in infertile soil. he never completed his mission to tear down those who surpass him, the innocent angel was clawed at until he had succumbed to the same fate as the brunette. oikawa laughed at the name that whispered within the court. _( king of the court, a tyrant who ran a tight dictatorship.)_ he cherished that thought of seeing his kouhai beaten down from his throne. his knee pad, singular, represented the nightmare he lived in when he had given into his parasitical thoughts.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐌 𝐈 𝐋 𝐊⠀⠀𝐁 𝐑 𝐄 𝐀 𝐃

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oikawa tasted like bitter-sweet love. a complete opposite of the fluffy goodness provided by his favourite snack, but still an addicting taste. milk bread will always be associated with oikawa tooru. it was part of him, he grew to love as a kid. it was comfort food for when his childhood house had shaken with the loud angry turbulence in the form on screams. it was something he could always rely on. it was his safety net. it kept him sane. it reminded him that no matter what he was going through, he could always get through it. injury a knee? milk bread. lose to shiratorizawa? milk bread. stupid genius kouhai’s who won’t take no for an answer? milk bread. people usually fell to alcohol, preferring the burn of the bitter tasting substance. others may use the inhalation of deadly smoke to cope. but oikawa had always been soft for the fluffy soft bread. it was a memory of the childhood he had lost. the childhood he could have had. the childhood which remained frozen, embedded deep within the heart of the loaf.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐏 𝐎 𝐌 𝐄 𝐆 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄

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crimson liquid dripped from those tainted lips. a perfectly pink tongue darting between the seeds, crushing them to spill their blood. the pomegranate represented life, death and power. it was the binding seal that entwined the strings of lady persephone to her new lord. it was the phoenix fruit, reborn from the blood of adonis. it was the seeds that drove the ghost of demeter to near insanity, searching and searching to bring her daughter home. it was a divinity that bought storms, that introduced winter, that wreaked havoc across the earth because it was so ethereal that lady persephone stood no chance against it. and like the pomegranate, oikawa is life. he is death. he is power. a taste of his presence is enough to feed a starving man. his smile is enough to stop even death, to bring life back into something that was once lost, to supply enough power for three thousand soldiers. he is a conductor of the game, controlling it with a touch of his fingers. he brings victory, with the consequence of being stained forever with the misfortunes of a pomegranate.

_( he took a bite and now, he suffers.)_

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐑 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍

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always watch out for the flying ants. they send a warning. rain is coming. but you shouldn’t be scared. when the gates of heaven open, clouds parting in greeting, and the soft drizzle descends from the heavens, open your mouth and let that wave of relief fill you to the brim——let yourself overflow because you have been given a second chance. it’s washing away your pain, your sorrows, your broken dreams. the rain is washing it all away, taking on your burden for himself. it cleanses you. only run and hide when the storms come gathering in bundles, strapped together like sheep in a paddock. only then, you may run. because as soon as those tears come pelting down at full force in the form of ice, will you know suffering. oikawa is the rain after a drought. he brings a sense of hope. he shoulders the burden so that you don’t have to. he takes away your pain with soft touches of reassurance and quiet promises. and like the rain, he can come in like the gentle wind or in raging hurricanes that beg for the taste of vengeance. oikawa is the rain, and you best hope that you have an umbrella.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐒 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆

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some may say he was the summer; a riveting spirit that had the tendency to burn those around him. but in reality, he is the spring. and until the leaves awaken once more, will he remain nothing but an empty promise. so, await until the first drop of spring arrive. when the leaves reawaken, humming with life and begin carrying secrets from branch to branch. when the call of the birds sung in a saccharine melody are echoing across the meadow. when he finally awakes from his slumber to be greet by a burst of bright, colourful floral art. remain patient, and you will be rewarded. you’ll find the promise of spring hidden within the depts of his heart. one that swore he would bring hope and glory to his team. one that promised that no matter what happened, no matter the lost, he will also be there. he’ll be there tending to the flame of hope, ensuring that it never wavered. that it was always glowing with hope. hope to live and fight another day. he was spring. he was a promise. but even spring eventually fades, and in comes summer.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐒 𝐓 𝐀 𝐑 𝐒

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when dusk had fallen over the small town——the dark bleeding into every homes, tainting the safety of that the four walls had claimed——and light was nothing more than just a myth, had little tooru realised that moon wasn’t the only beautiful thing in the sky. the stars were just as beautiful. they had looked so glorious sitting on their throne in the sky. it was what sparked his thirst for the great unknown. they were bright, burning balls of energy, just waiting to explode. it made oikawa’s eyes shine, a rushing flood of wonder and child-like awe. the stars signified all that was good in the world, or so it was said. the stars were his solace. he buried himself under his blankets, a flashlight in hand as he immersed himself in the wonders of the galaxy. the stars were at centre stage of the show, dancing along the night sky in the tune of the moon and it made him want to dance with it. the stars represented inspiration, something beautiful and good. and it had served its purpose. every night, when the moon had reached its highest peak, the ghost of a little boy could be found knelt at the edge of his window still——a silent wish at the edge of his tongue. a wish for his parents to arguing. a wish for eternal happiness. a wish for peace. a wish to finally meet the aliens. a wish to be abducted by them. and a wish to be the greatest.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐒 𝐔 𝐍 𝐅 𝐋 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒⠀

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the original representation of sunflowers was to express joy——to symbolise loyalty, adoration and the truth. and oikawa is a sunflower. the biggest and brightest sunflower the world had ever seen. he was loyal to a fault. he was adored. and the truth was . . . he was blind. they say love is blind. icarus was so blinded by his love for the sun that he fell to his death / but / oikawa never understand that notion until he had fallen himself. he believed that love was easy. it was easy as breathing. it was keeping that love floating that he found difficult. his parents were a prime example. careless i love you’s were thrown around the house with the same ease of setting up for the perfect spike, and eventually those i love you’s disappeared and were replaced with “ we still love you.” or “ it’s not your fault.” you see, sunflowers ( well flowers in general) have the tendency to follow the sun, just like icarus. except, in this case . . .the sun was love, and oikawa, the stupid fool, continued to follow it. he uprooted himself form the ground, dragged his body across the world, and refused to settle until he caught up with the sun. ( spoiler alert: he never did.)

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐕 𝐀 𝐍 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋 𝐀

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vanilla. short. simple. plain. everything that oikawa was and was not. a contradiction really? he was plain but he was extraordinary——extraordinary ordinary as some may call him. to him, vanilla was safe. or so he thought. as it turns out, the origin of vanilla begins with abandonment. it represents the abandonment of love and for love. it represents the strength to love again. to move forward. and that is what oikawa was. he was vanilla because despite the amount of people who left him, or who he had left, he still found it in him to open his heart again. to learn to love again. to continue on and find someone who would truly appreciate him for who he was. he was vanilla because . . . only those who stripped themselves bare before him would be able to truly appreciate him as a person. he was vanilla because it was an acquired taste, people thought it was too bland or too boring. they always prefer the flashy flavours like bubble-gum or chocolate. but he was vanilla, he was plain and simple. and yet, he wasn’t.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toru (Tooru) Oikawa is not my own character, all rights belong to Haruichi Furudate, the creator of the Haikyuu universe. However, while character rights belong to Furudate, my portrayal and interpretation of Oikawa are completely my own, unless stated otherwise, the events that occur in Oikawa’s life have been based on headcanons or my own imagination.


	2. known association of the grand king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one shot is a short insight into oikawa—— touches on events that happened in his life. this was originally supposed to be a one-shot about his knee but it kinda went on a tangent and you can see how i rushed the end because I lost a bit muse after it got to a certain point but ENJOY IT ANYWAYS . . .  
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> ⠀⠀▸ warnings : unreliable narrator, minor ⠀⠀anxiety, minor unhealthy obsessions . . .  
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**& & ONE. **

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there’s a boy, sitting alone under the big oak tree in the schoolyard. he had coffee-stained silk for hair——it resembled the clouds on blue skies and if you could touch it, you would be 1000 yen then it would be just as soft. you always thought brown eyes were plain, they were the colour of yours but not his. his eyes held bright burning stars of wonder that would have left you speechless if you had just paid more attention. there’s whole galaxy waiting to be explored. there’s pain, there’s love, there’s hope, there’s curiosity, there’s light and there’s life . . .

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there’s a boy but he sits by himself and you only spare him a glance because he’s a loser. he doesn’t have any friends. _( how extremely pathetic?)_

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there’s a boy and if you had taken it upon yourself to look at him longer, you would have seen him content. there’s a happy smile on his face, a book in hand and nose buried deep. if you had just stayed there longer and maybe took the time to know him then you would have be shown a world of aliens and stars, of ufos and more. you would have seen the world through the eyes of a boy named tooru oikawa——the boy who was going to conquer and the bring the world to their knees and singing his praises.

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**& & TWO.**

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the boy who used to sit by himself, immersed in aliens and the unknown, had grown to be a teen who thought that no victory could taste as setting the winning point with his best friend. the teen grew into a s tar—— the very same one that he used to admire from the grass of his backyard—— and he didn’t grow up to be any star, he grew to be the brightest star. one that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. one that had you flocking to him like a magnet. one that you knew was destined to fall.

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_( “ my name is oikawa tooru and i want to the greatest setter that the world has ever seen. “ )_

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he practiced. and practiced. and practiced. practiced until the pads of fingers were stained red. practiced until his fingers couldn’t bend. practiced until his arms become lead and were too heavy to lift. practiced until his dreams became nightmares that left him waking up in cold sweat—— his throat sore from the screaming. practiced until those nightmares became reality . . . and his reality check came in the form of a bubbling genius.

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_( “ my name is kageyama tobio and i want to play volleyball. please take care of me. ” )_

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how innocent was that claim?

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and yet to the rising star, it had seemed like a dangerous threat. anger began to stir, and with it came resentment . . . the first two ingredients had finally come together for the downfall of oikawa tooru.

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**& & THREE.**

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_( “shittykawa stop practising and go home and rest. ” )_

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the burn. he could feel like encircling his chest. he could feel it eaten away at his body. but he just needed one more perfect set. one more perfect serve. one more per—.

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_( “ just one more, iwa-chan then i promise we can go home. “ )_

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and one more, turned into two more, turned into three more, and it just kept going. he could feel himself getting better. could feel it in his bones. with every thump. with every set. with every serve. with every breath of concentration. with every drop of sweat. and he had never felt alive. . . .so much satisfaction from hearing the ball slam into the ground with a—

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 _/ t h u m p_ /

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cue the shattering scream of a would-be star. cue the flocking mother hen of best friend, running to be by his side. cue the sound of the whistle, that dreaded sound that bought in . . . h i m. cue the sound of deafening sound of silence as the game had ceased and the crowd held their breath. and finally, cue the opening flood gates of panic, almost drowning the injured boy.

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_( i can’t breathe. i can’t breathe. i can’t breathe. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts. make it s. t o p . )_

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that star had finally reached its limit and now he came plummeting to the earth in a glory blazed that seared a demising mark into the black sky. it was over.

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_( “ oh shit, fuck. where does it hurt? oikawa answer me. i need to call the ambulance. it’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay. “ )_

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tears brimmed, he forced himself to swallow back his tears. it’s not going to be okay. he heard it snapped. it’s over. it’s all over. he wanted to cry. he wanted to scream again. he wants to— fuck. what was he going to do? how was he—

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_( “ iwa-chan… it hurts. “ he croaked, “ it really hurts.” )_

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**& & FOUR.**

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they told him he couldn’t play for four months. he was hysterical. how was he going to get better? how was he going to perfect his technique? how was he—s.

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it was all / h i s / fault. how dare that little upstart come in and ta—.

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_( “ ow iwa-chan what was that for? that really hurt you know.” )_

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he rubbed his head, his fingers laced into his chocolate locks. there’s worry in his best friend’s eyes, but he shields it with a scoff.

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_( “ i can hear you overthinking, you’re so loud so i decided to shut you up. “)_

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the corner of oikawa’s lip turned upright for second, it flickered into a frown. he wouldn’t be able to play for four months. four months wasted because . . .because . . . because he didn’t know when to stop. he shouldn’t have been so obsessed with trying to get better. that thought had left a bitter taste on his tongue. he would never be able to keep up.

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ever since kageyama had entered the court, oikawa had been playing a losing game. and he really hated losing.

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**& & FIVE.**

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there’s a ghost lingering in his knees, he can feel it. he can feel the mischievous spirit prodding at his knee, causing him to gasp in pain and crumble to the ground. he knows this is the gods punishing him. and he accepts it. he accepts that he will also be in pain, always suffering because he’s oikawa tooru, his life was constructed in a way that ensured he was always losing—always drawing the short end of the stick.

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he could feel the gods laughing at him every time his knee buckled, every time he had to take a pause from playing, every time he had to take a long hot shower so he could wait for everyone to leave before he iced his knee, every time he came home absolutely exhausted because he refused to let his knee stop him from improving, every time he cried himself to sleep because it was almost / too / much, every time he—.

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when he’s in-between his sheets, he’s sobbing. an absolutely disgusting sight. it’s pathetic. he’s pathetic. oikawa tooru in all his confident glory is nothing more than a pathetic failure who couldn’t even keep up with his kouhai . . . who couldn’t keep up with ushijima wakatoshi, the stupid ace who he wanted to crush with his bare hands. who couldn't keep up with his own demands of better himself. and because of that, he was nothing more than a dead star who only shone for a split second.

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he was nothing.

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**& & SIX.**

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 _ **OIKAWA TOORU** _was a star.

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a bundle of riveting energy that could burst at any moment. he was the definition of a fighter. he fought fiercely for what was his and he loved his world with just as much ferocity. he was compelling——a magnet pulling in a crowd and leaving them in a wondered dazed. he was the flame of hope that left his teammates looking up to him. he was stubborn. he was loyal. he was proud. and he was hard to miss. His aura demanded attention——from his toothy smile to his summery laughter to his lively eyes. He demanded attention.

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 _ **OIKAWA TOORU**_ was captivating.

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bright, warm, dark, beautiful yet so god damn destructive. a ticking time bomb some would call him——brimming to the surface with anger, fear and hate. he was wicked, malicious and he would not stop until he got what he wanted. he wanted to taste victory, wanted to bring victory and achieve victory RIGHT. BESIDE. HIS. TEAMMATES. he wanted to smear the sweat (blood) of his opponents on the waxed floors of the court. he wanted to bring. them. to. their. knees. he danced to his own tune, tiptoeing around the darkness like a game of cats and mice. able to create as he destroyed and he destroyed in the most beautiful way possible ( take kageyama for future references. )

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 _ **OIKAWA TOORU** _was a force to be reckoned with.

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some would go as far as calling him a tempest, a storm needing to be free—not controlled. he was the breath of fresh air that keep the flame of hope alive. they trusted him to bring them victory. they put their trust into him. they believed in him. and he believed in them. and here he was, so filled with potential, with life, yet like the earth, he was poisoned. he was fed with ill lies, fake whispers of anger towards his enemies ( stupid ushiwaka). and like earth, he was dying—drowning in his own despair and forced to face it on his own because who would ever believe that the infamous oikawa tooru, could ever be suffocating by his own inner demons?

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_( he always did he say ‘ hit it til it breaks. ’ he just never thought that karma would come and bite him in the ass. )_

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toru (Tooru) Oikawa is not my own character, all rights belong to Haruichi Furudate, the creator of the Haikyuu universe. However, while character rights belong to Furudate, my portrayal and interpretation of Oikawa are completely my own, unless stated otherwise, the events that occur in Oikawa’s life have been based on headcanons or my own imagination.


	3. in fertile soil, you'll thrive.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the alternative universe where oikawa actually went to shiratorizawa. if ushijima thought oikawa would thrive in shiratorizawa then . . . in this, you need to know the following:
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> ⠀⠀▸ semi is the starting setter  
> ⠀⠀▸ iwaizumi and oikawa hardly see each other, and their friendship is mostly text base as oikawa stays at the dorms provided by the school.  
> ⠀⠀▸ oikawa has moved from setter to wing spiker. however, he still is able to set when they decide to try out backcourt setting to throw off the opponent.  
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> ⠀⠀▸ timeline : non-linear.  
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> ⠀⠀▸ characters mentioned : tba.  
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⠀⠀⠀ _⠀_ _“ YOU SHOULD HAVE COME TO_

_⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ **S H I R A T O R I Z A W A** ... “_

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the words echo in your head. in that monotonous tone which belong to the devil incarnate.

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it mocked him.

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_( you’re weak . . . it whispered )_

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those six words had been ingrained into his mind, haunting his dreams and nightmares. it put a weight on his chest that got heavy with second.

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the brunette boy stared at the envelope in his hand. it filled him with a sudden dread——guilt gnawed at him. he wanted to throw up. should he..... no, he shouldn’t give any fucks about / him /. he shouldn’t give in. shouldn’t give that stupid ushiwaka any satisfaction of being right. r i g h t?

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ WHEN I COUNT **TO T H R E E**

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I **_WANT_** YOU TO TAKE A _DEEP_

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ _BREATH_ AND _**CALM D O W N**_.”

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_T H R E E . . ._

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the boy blinks. and he sees an envelope in his hands. elegantly scrawled, in small neat font, is his name with ‘ shiratorizawa ’ right on top. his hands tremble, and he’s not sure if it’s from anger or fear. but with a shaky breath, he opens it.

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_( he did it. he **gave** in.)_

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_. . . T W O_

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he prowled the halls, a vicious smile on those tainted lips. he all but .. . the crowd parted for him as if he was tainted. as if he was a ghost and they feared and awed him at the same time— a ghost they could see but could never touch.

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_O N E . . ._

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this was a story about a boy whose blood turned purple instead of turquoise. about a boy who left behind a chance of content growth and grew up with a looming cloud of grey surrounding him. about a boy who bled, cried, screamed in bruises of black and blue for the death of his childish dreams. this was a story of a boy who stood under the purple flag of an airborne eagle instead of the comforting turquoise flame of home.

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“ 𝗶’𝗺 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂.”

—— 𝗴𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗶 𝘁𝘀𝘂𝘁𝗼𝗺𝘂. . .

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and oikawa laughs. he laughed and laughed. until his sides are hurting. not because he didn’t think it was possible or because he was being mean / but / because it was filled with determination and passion and enthusiasm. something that oikawa hadn’t tasted since . . . it held so much promise.

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it reminded him of the spring times of when flowers bloomed under the sun——— a promise that even when you surrender to the harsh winter storms, you are still able to thrive. (it’s only temporary . . . the pain.) .

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it reminded him of the punishing flow of the river as it falls down the waterfall, promise of unwavering loyalty. (a stand to say, you can always rely on me.)

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it reminded him of childish youth, of an innocence that oikawa had once had. an innocence that used to shine in his heated chocolate light.

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and that left oikawa wondering . . . when did volleyball become such a chore?

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“ 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗽𝗮𝗶, 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻’𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀. ”

—— 𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗶 𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶. . .

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as childish as this had sounded, oikawa had gone and stuck his tongue out at his kouhai. a scoff had left those pale lips before twisting into a sly smirk.

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“ now, now, kawa-chan, no need to be jealous that your loving senpai is better than you.” he forced the words to sound light-hearted, focused all his energy in making it sound teasing that he wasn’t prepared to taste the metallic steel that dripped in crimson flow.

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he ran his fingers in his hand, ignoring the sudden pang that came when his heartstrings were being tugged. “ after all, there’s only one of me after all . . . ” he winked, flashing a cheesy smile before turning to face the wall.

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_( “ and thank the gods for that, i don’t think the world could handle two of you, shittykawa.” it’s left unsaid, nothing more than a longing grunt in his head. )_

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his eyes closed; head pressed against the cool wall. a frown replaced the smirk and now the teen had looked a hundred years older . . .

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_( the teasing tone of his kouhai reminded him of someone whom he hadn’t see in a while. his heart clenches. the ⠀⠀⠀⠀‘i ⠀⠀m i s s⠀⠀y o u’⠀⠀⠀is muttered like a mantra. )_

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“ 𝗺𝘆 𝗷𝗼𝗯. . .𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.”

—— 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗯𝘂 𝗸𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗶𝗿𝗼𝘂.

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tooru was standing in the rain. he was soaked to the bones. and yet, he couldn’t find it in him to move. there’s another boy sitting on the stairs, face buried between his shivering knees.

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“ shira-chan. you’re going to catch a cold if you’re going to be sitting in the rain.” the lightness of the words were dragged to the floor by the pouring rain.

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the startled boy untwined from his limbs, looking at the older teen in front of him. his stare was blank. empty, save for the fiery flame of a lost beast begging to saved.

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“o-oikawa-san.” oikawa’s eyes soften, wordless pulling his damp jacket off him and putting it over the younger boy before sitting next to him. “y-you don’t need to—. what a-about you?”

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“why would i be cold when i have my cute kouhai here to keep warm.”

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“ you’re disgusting.” but shirabu’s lips twitch in amusement, as he shuffled closer. he’s still trembling from the cold and his lips are dark shade of purple.

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comfortable silence bled into the atmosphere; a blanket thrown over the both of them to keep them a little warmer. the rain turned from pelting, droplets of raging water to a soothing trickle of washed away tears. “ oikawa-san . . . it is my job as the setter to portray the spikers in the best light possible.”

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the ‘ including you . . .’ and the apologises are left are unsaid but oikawa heard everything, he saw everything and in that moment, he saw shirabu in a different light.

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there’s a sad smile that graced the face of the older brunette. a smile that conveyed ‘you’re in far too deep. ’

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it was one that held a warning, one that said, ‘devotion to us is not a reason to play volleyball.’

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it was one that said, ‘ do not follow the path that i once followed, it’s dark and lonely and you won’t make it out.’

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but oikawa doesn’t voice his thoughts, instead only a detached hummed as he pulled the younger boy closer.

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_( a boy was standing under an umbrella, shooting a thumbs up at them. oikawa blinks. and he’s gone. but he strained his ears to hear, “ you’re finally maturing, shittykawa.”)_

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“ 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲'𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄. ”

—— 𝗿𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗮

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see the thing about oikawa was that he was always scared. scared of falling from the tree when he used to catch bugs. scared of getting a bad mark in school and getting yelled for. scared of learning to ride a bike because what if he failed. scared of losing because he hated the self-destructive asshole he become afterwards. scared of being overtaken by someone younger, smarter, more intelligent and better than him. it’s just, no one ever saw it . . .

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he stood on the count, a limp in his steps and yet, he covered his struggles so well that to the naked eye, it couldn’t be seen. he covered them with layers of band aids of fake smiles and laughter. he hid the tremble of his fingers under layers of tape, to keep them busy. to keep them still. he hid his fear of losing to karasuno but channelling all his energy into practice.

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practice. practice practice.

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he stood on the court with a winning smile——— a smile that’s flickering, holding onto its seams. he spiked . . . but his hand feels heavy. he tipped yet the touch of the ball felt different. he jumped and he landed with a loud thump, his legs have turned to lead.

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the arena is loud, the suffocating cheers of the crowd and the orders from the coach who was yelling from the sidelines. it was all too loud / but / his head was louder. the voices in his head leering at him, mocking him, tearing him down . . .

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“ tooru.” but he’s never been good at hiding from reon. oikawa eyes glint in panic before going back to calm. the dark skinned teen is standing in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “ personal problems stay off court so . . .” he trailed off, chocolate orbs zeroing in on oikawa’s face as the brunette turns away from the court, isolating himself. “if you’re distracted then do us a favour—.”

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oikawa gulped, shoving his fingers into his hair to ‘fix’ it. “hirachan-n.” oikawa lets his voice break, lets himself indulge in letting reon see his vulnerable side. “ we’re going to lose. ” the ‘ because of me ’ is implied from the way that oikawa shoulders are hutched forward in defeat and the way his eyes are shut together as if it pained him to see the world celebrating their win of the first set.

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a hand settled on oikawa shoulder——strong, reassuring, calming.

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“ you once told me that volleyball is a team sport and that one strong player cannot win alone. they need the support of their teammates, their coaches, their managers, their supporters. how are you going to predict whether we win or lose because of one player? because of you?

if you think we’re going to lose before we even step onto/ that / court then you don’t deserve to be here. get your head out of your ass because you’re not the only strong player anymore. stop playing as if you’re still the setter. you don’t control the game anymore. you don’t decide how we win. you are tool, an arm, a weapon for shiratorizawa to use for / our / victory.

 _and if we lose . . . then we lose together_.”

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_( in amidst the encouraging cheers of the crowd, he heard the angry sob of “THE TEAM WITH THE BETTER SIX IS STRONGER, YOU DUMBASS.”)_

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oikawa smiled.

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“ 𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁, 𝘂𝗻𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀. 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲.”

—— 𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗶 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗮

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oikawa remembered a time when he was truly stumped.a time when the vines of antipathy that were tightly wrapped around his aggravated heart were tugging in confusion and hurt.

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_( admit . . . defeat . . . he hated losing. he hated being second place. he hated being on the ground staring up at victory as the sound of her crackling floated into the air. )_

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he remembered staring at the stars, late into the night where the moon rested upon its throne staring down at him. he remembered feeling the presence of one of his best friends, his ashen blonde hair twinkling under the starlight. he remembered them sitting in silence with nothing but pyjamas and socks despite the cold. he remembered them turning to face each other.

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“ i think . . . i think this would be good for you.” and just like that, the silence is broken.

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“ good? how would this be good for me?” the words are bitter, shaped like razor-sharp glass found washed up along the sand, ready to inflict pain on its victim. the pain of losing his position as starting setter hurt, especially losing it to one of his best friends. he couldn’t find it in him to be proud. he was selfish.

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there’s irritation in semi’s eyes that resided between the concern and worry. and he sat up, opening his mouth and his tone is laced with pent up anger at the brunette.

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“ . . . you have / tried / so hard to keep up with kageyama as a setter. you’ve struggled to keep up with him, you’re drowning in it. you’re scared. don’t think i haven’t seen you. don’t think i haven’t noticed how bitter and angry you’ve become. don’t think i haven’t noticed the extra training you’ve put in every time / he is / mentioned.

don’t think for a second that / i / haven’t noticed. who do you think i am? i know you, tooru. i know you too well. you’ve chained yourself to this rock. you’ve put all your energy into beating him that you’re lost. you’re confused. and you’ve suffered enough.

and now .. . you have a choice. to hold on to that pain or let yourself go.” semi paused, shifting his body until he’s looming over oikawa’s face. the teen laid there, motionless, he could feel the heat of semi’s gentle breath tingling his skin. semi’s fingers brushed the stray hair from oikawa’s face before cupping his cheek. and all the anger subsides. “ _you are **free**_ , don’t you understand that?”

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“ free . . . ” oikawa muttered as if he was trying out the word for the first time. semi removed himself from oikawa personal space, now kneeling before him.

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“ yes, free.”

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_( for future reference, oikawa can now be seen wrecking havoc and spreading a mass wave of fear and destruction with a single smirk. his new legacy began under the stars with a friend he held dear and his legacy begins with the crater created from the powerful smash of the ball against the court._ _oikawa has finally been set free form his bonds, a setter who was trapped in his own web has finally cut himself free and now he flies, an almighty eagle ready to pinched its talons into his opponents. )_

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“ 𝗮𝗵𝗮! 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗹 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶! ”

—— 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶

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the satisfying thump of the ball after it landed on the ground from a block was music to oikawa’s ears. however, oikawa would never get over the sweet cheers of his red headed friend singing praises to himself.

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“ sa-tori. sa-tori. sa-tori.”

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he covered his giggles under his hand, hiding the amusement and incredible fondness he held for the blocker.

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he’s happy. he’s smiling. he’s genuine.

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_( for once.)_

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once upon a time, oikawa’s greatest fears was getting burnt alive. whenever he came into contact with a flame, the unmistakeable flinch was noticeable. and as impulsive as oikawa was, the flame had always come out on top.

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then oikawa met him . . .

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a boy who had suffered as he had. a boy with hair that was as vibrant as the summer sun. a boy who rivalled the dangerous flame seen by the campfire. a boy who was learning to walk again and heal from his past. and soon, oikawa had found himself enthralled by the boy. the fear long forgotten, and a connection was formed.

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_( perhaps it was the way the both of they had suffered. or the way he carried himself in a way that demanded attention. or the way he seemed so sure about himself and refused to yield when they threatened him to change. or perhaps he was drunk on the adrenaline the sun had elicited when he dragged oikawa to do something “dangerous”, but either way, he loved the way tendou had made him feel. he made oikawa feel powerful, loved but most importantly, accepted. )_

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“ sing it with me, tooru. ” the cheerful boy had bounded up to him in his celebration, twirling his fingers in a circle as he sung.

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“tori-chan, we are playing a very serious match right now.” oikawa failed to hold his serious façade, breaking down into a fit of laughter before joining in the singing though . . . “too-ru. too-ru. too-ru.” he had changed the words.

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the middle blocker had scowled, sticking out his tongue playfully,“ you can start cheering your own name when you earn us a point.”

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rolling his eyes, tooru had elected to ignore the teasing remark before picking up the ball, tucking it under his arm as his hip stuck out to the side. “ oh, it’s on . . .i’m ended this game.”

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tendou had lit a blaze of competitiveness in tooru, an unsung challenge that had oikawa vibrating in excitement and determination. he took his position a few steps behind the baseline, closing his eyes as he drew in a quiet breath.

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the crowd is loud, but this time, their cheers and shouts of encouragement fall deaf to oikawa’s ear. oikawa is completely focussed. he exhaled, opening his eyes again. he threw the ball high into the air, pausing to watch the ball fly into the air for the briefest second before he ran.

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he jumped. his arms raised, feeling the smooth texture of the ball against his fingers and the next thing he knew, he had smashed it down the court---- the ball had shaken the court as it landed in. he smirked as the whistle blew and the crowd grew louder. “don’t cry when the game’s over. ” he grinned, peace signing as the ball rolled to his feet again.

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there was a pout, but no argument was made as the blocker turned to face the net.

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the brunette had smiled, allowing this new sensation flood him in warmth and comfort. this was it. he loved this feeling.

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_( and it was at this moment, that tooru had truly understood what semi meant. )_

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“ 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀, 𝗼𝗶𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗺. ”

—— 𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗮𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶

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oikawa used to walk around with brightly coloured blossoms blooming beneath the soles of his feet, a sea of rainbow flooding the streets and places he used to visit. he used to be happy and then he fell. he had followed the little white rabbit and had suffered the consequences. he had fallen, and no matter how hard he tried. he couldn’t get back up.

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he had asked himself constantly, “what had gone wrong?” because maybe then he could actually pinpoint when the blossom had died and had been replaced with black coals for centres of what he used to be. maybe then it would stop the cigarette butt from burning the plastic heart, he had called his own, and maybe then . . . the pain would stop.

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_( and maybe, just maybe . . . he would stop blaming and projecting his own inner rage towards his kouhai.)_

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he struggled to breathe from where he was knelt. he heaved his eyes from the ground, forcing them to face his opponent. he felt the life sucked out of him as he stared into the cold, dead eyes.

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“ your abilities could be used elsewhere. those emotions you are feeling at this moment . . . will continue to hurt you. it is just a constant cycle. i do not understand why you do not seek an alternative path. next year, you will be attending high school. i recommend you look into shiratorizawa, you would thrive at a school with players at your skill level. think about it.” ushijima, blunt as ever, tilted his head down in acknowledge before turning on his heels . . . and then he was gone.

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and that was the beginning of the big ‘ what if. ’

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oikawa had walked around with distaste and shame when he had donned the colours of maroon instead of turquoise. he had put himself at a distance, not letting himself become too close to anyone because he felt guilty. he felt guilty for coming to a school that he had vowed to himself he would never go to. guilty for “betraying” his best friend and leaving him to fend for himself.

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_( “ IWA-CHANNNNNNN I’M SORRY, PLEASE FORGIVE.”a loud thump could be heard over the melodramatic sobs and gruff voice, laced in annoyance and fondness, replying with . . . “ shut up baka, i’m glad you’re going. i don’t need to put up with your shitty personality anymore. i pray for your new team and hope they can deal with you. i hope they send you back to me . . .” but oikawa heard the silent message. i love you . . . i love you too.)_

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of course, he still surrounded himself by the girls who had flocked to him like sheep. still indulge them in dates and gifts. but there was a hesitance to whenever oikawa had interacted with the team, especially ushijima.

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he could remember a time when oikawa seethed in anger at having that cold exterior directed and focused on him. a time when oikawa had wished ill against the ace. but oikawa now knew better. ushijima was never a man for words but his eyes—the windows to the soul as many claimed— were so full of excitement and wonder. it had left oikawa stumped.

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“ oikawa . ..” oikawa turned away from the group of girls he was currently entertaining. an unreadable expression flashed in ushijima’s eyes before vanishing. “ may we talk? — alone, if possible.” the tone of his voice had meant it as an order.

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“ladies, excuse me. the captain would like to speak with me.” oikawa mocked, untangling himself from the flock and leading the way into an empty part of the corridor. said captain following behind him. “ what do you want ushiwaka?”

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the captain pursuit his lips, letting the mocking comment of captain go in favour of speaking his mind---- “ you do not have to forgive me for the past. i will not apologise but i regretted the way i handled that situation. it will not happen again. i hope we can move on from this because you are avoiding the team, and though it has not affected us yet since it is early in the year BUT it will one day and i refuse to let that happen. i bought you here because you are a setter we can trust. one who will devote themselves to the ace. a setter we can rely on. a person who can bring out the best in us. i bought you here, thinking that oikwa tooru would be playing for shiratorizawa. but all i see now, is a coward is too scared to come out of that hole. do something about it. or i will.”

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he felt his heart flare in resentment, but it was fleeting, fading away only replaced by an empty feeling. oikawa stared at him. and he is silent, analysing the face and body language of the teen standing in front of him.

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“ even if you had apologised . . .” his dragged his words in a lazy drawled, almost as if he was bored with the conversation, “ i would never had accepted. i’ll be frank with you ushiwaka, you are the last person i expected to come talk to me and i wont lie to you, i’m still not over it. i’m not sure i’ll ever be. but thank you, anyway.”

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oikawa paused; his eyes are still intently zeroed in on the ace’s face before he continued, “ i don’t know what you are talking. oikawa tooru will be on that court tomorrow. he will see you tomorrow.” there’s a promise in those words that like always, is left unsaid. it was oikawa’s way of saying, i’ll do my best. i promise i’ll try harder.

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and like last time, ushijima just nodded his head in silent acknowledge before exiting the scene, leaving oikawa to stare at the back of his once most hated enemy.

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oikawa takes a step forward, and a flower bloomed at his sole and his guilt has been released and he felt lighter. he had finally found himself crawling out of that dark, dark hole.

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_( or so he thought, this was only the beginning.)_

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⠀ _ **final thought.**_

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first, he was floating, barely processing the thought, and then . . . he was falling, tumbling in a never-ending hole, eyes barely adjusting to the dark that seemed to encase him . . . but he couldn’t find it in himself to scream.

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his heart began to speed up, irregularity breathing to keep up with the millions of thoughts that are currently racing through his head. he felt it harder to breathe. he could fill the slight in his heart, a flickering flame that begged to release. it’s flickering that flame. and as that flame becomes closer and closer to turning to ash, he could feel him driving himself into a state of hysteria.

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it was always him. why was it always him?

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he wanted to cry. _( he cried and cried and cried.)_

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the phantom pain in his knee became real and it bit him. he should have known better. he shouldn’t have practised so hard when coach washijo had informed him that he was not the starting setter. he shouldn’t have lost control. he shouldn’t have taken his anger through volleyball. he should have known better. he shouldn’t have done the extra serves, or spikes, or practice sets. he should have known better. he should—

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_( you’re so stupid. i told you to take it easy and look where it got you._

_i’m sorry . . . eita-chan . . .)_

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he had lost everything.

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_( he prayed to the gods that this was just a knee injury. he had to be there for when they played karasuno. he still wanted to beat—. no. he wasn’t in competition anymore. but he still wanted to play. he wanted to play so bad. he prayed. please. please. don’t let this be the end.)_

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“ i’m sorry oikawa-san, but your knee . . .” oikawa stopped hearing. he should have listen when reon had warned him. should have listen when goshiki had promised to beat him. should have listen when taichi had asked him to sit with him because he was ‘too tired’ to carry on. should have listen when shirabu came to him about his concerns. should have listen when tendou hadsemi force him to bed. should have listen when ushijima had told him practice was cancel for the weekend and to rest.

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oikawa stared blankly at the wall. his mind is a crazed mess, voices are yelling over each other and one voice in particular stood out among the millions.

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“ YOU **_SHOULD HAVE_** COME

TO _**AOBA JOHSAI** **. . .**_ ”

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and just like that, a flood gate had been released and oikawa sobbed.

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	4. known associations of oikawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don’t know what this is????? It was supposed to be a character study by comparing Oikawa to things I associate with him BUT it just turned into rabbles???? I don’t know what this is but I just finished it at whatever the hell time it is and it’s unedited so if something is spelt wrong pls don’t attack me !!!

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐊 𝐍 𝐄 𝐄⠀⠀⠀𝐏 𝐀 𝐃

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knee pads were supposed to protect you. they were made to protect your knees from causing harm to your body if you ever chose to fall or were unable to overcome a difficult obstacle. oikawa loathed what his knee pad stood for. singular. because his other knee pad was replaced by a brace. it stood for his inability to cope under stress or with threats. the brunette had always been driven, except this time, he’s driven by spite. he’s infected with a disease that controls him the way a puppeteer would control his puppets. he had never felt so helpless as he allows his inner demons to tug him along for the ride. his knee pad symbolises his weakness. it retells the story of the angel who fell to hell, trying to crawl his way back to his home in the heavens. except, he never made it. oikawa never made it home. he never made it past finals, beaten down the guardian of the gates who reminded him that he was nurtured in infertile soil. he never completed his mission to tear down those who surpass him, the innocent angel was clawed at until he had succumbed to the same fate as the brunette. oikawa laughed at the name that whispered within the court. ( king of the court, a tyrant who ran a tight dictatorship.) he cherished that thought of seeing his kouhai beaten down from his throne. his knee pad, singular, represented the nightmare he lived in when he had given into his parasitical thoughts.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐌 𝐈 𝐋 𝐊⠀⠀𝐁 𝐑 𝐄 𝐀 𝐃

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oikawa tasted like bitter-sweet love. a complete opposite of the fluffy goodness provided by his favourite snack, but still an addicting taste. milk bread will always be associated with oikawa tooru. it was part of him, he grew to love as a kid. it was comfort food for when his childhood house had shaken with the loud angry turbulence in the form on screams. it was something he could always rely on. it was his safety net. it kept him sane. it reminded him that no matter what he was going through, he could always get through it. injury a knee? milk bread. lose to shiratorizawa? milk bread. stupid genius kouhai’s who won’t take no for an answer? milk bread. people usually fell to alcohol, preferring the burn of the bitter tasting substance. others may use the inhalation of deadly smoke to cope. but oikawa had always been soft for the fluffy soft bread. it was a memory of the childhood he had lost. the childhood he could have had. the childhood which remained frozen, embedded deep within the heart of the loaf.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐏 𝐎 𝐌 𝐄 𝐆 𝐑 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄

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crimson liquid dripped from those tainted lips. a perfectly pink tongue darting between the seeds, crushing them to spill their blood. the pomegranate represented life, death and power. it was the binding seal that entwined the strings of lady persephone to her new lord. it was the phoenix fruit, reborn from the blood of adonis. it was the seeds that drove the ghost of demeter to near insanity, searching and searching to bring her daughter home. it was a divinity that bought storms, that introduced winter, that wreaked havoc across the earth because it was so ethereal that lady persephone stood no chance against it. and like the pomegranate, oikawa is life. he is death. he is power. a taste of his presence is enough to feed a starving man. his smile is enough to stop even death, to bring life back into something that was once lost, to supply enough power for three thousand soldiers. he is a conductor of the game, controlling it with a touch of his fingers. he brings victory, with the consequence of being stained forever with the misfortunes of a pomegranate.

( he took a bite and now, he suffers.)

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐑 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍

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always watch out for the flying ants. they send a warning. rain is coming. but you shouldn’t be scared. when the gates of heaven open, clouds parting in greeting, and the soft drizzle descends from the heavens, open your mouth and let that wave of relief fill you to the brim——let yourself overflow because you have been given a second chance. it’s washing away your pain, your sorrows, your broken dreams. the rain is washing it all away, taking on your burden for himself. it cleanses you. only run and hide when the storms come gathering in bundles, strapped together like sheep in a paddock. only then, you may run. because as soon as those tears come pelting down at full force in the form of ice, will you know suffering. oikawa is the rain after a drought. he brings a sense of hope. he shoulders the burden so that you don’t have to. he takes away your pain with soft touches of reassurance and quiet promises. and like the rain, he can come in like the gentle wind or in raging hurricanes that beg for the taste of vengeance. oikawa is the rain, and you best hope that you have an umbrella.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐒 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐆

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some may say he was the summer; a riveting spirit that had the tendency to burn those around him. but in reality, he is the spring. and until the leaves awaken once more, will he remain nothing but an empty promise. so, await until the first drop of spring arrive. when the leaves reawaken, humming with life and begin carrying secrets from branch to branch. when the call of the birds sung in a saccharine melody are echoing across the meadow. when he finally awakes from his slumber to be greet by a burst of bright, colourful floral art. remain patient, and you will be rewarded. you’ll find the promise of spring hidden within the depts of his heart. one that swore he would bring hope and glory to his team. one that promised that no matter what happened, no matter the lost, he will also be there. he’ll be there tending to the flame of hope, ensuring that it never wavered. that it was always glowing with hope. hope to live and fight another day. he was spring. he was a promise. but even spring eventually fades, and in comes summer.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐒 𝐓 𝐀 𝐑 𝐒

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when dusk had fallen over the small town——the dark bleeding into every homes, tainting the safety of that the four walls had claimed——and light was nothing more than just a myth, had little tooru realised that moon wasn’t the only beautiful thing in the sky. the stars were just as beautiful. they had looked so glorious sitting on their throne in the sky. it was what sparked his thirst for the great unknown. they were bright, burning balls of energy, just waiting to explode. it made oikawa’s eyes shine, a rushing flood of wonder and child-like awe. the stars signified all that was good in the world, or so it was said. the stars were his solace. he buried himself under his blankets, a flashlight in hand as he immersed himself in the wonders of the galaxy. the stars were at centre stage of the show, dancing along the night sky in the tune of the moon and it made him want to dance with it. the stars represented inspiration, something beautiful and good. and it had served its purpose. every night, when the moon had reached its highest peak, the ghost of a little boy could be found knelt at the edge of his window still——a silent wish at the edge of his tongue. a wish for his parents to arguing. a wish for eternal happiness. a wish for peace. a wish to finally meet the aliens. a wish to be abducted by them. and a wish to be the greatest.

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐒 𝐔 𝐍 𝐅 𝐋 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒⠀

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the original representation of sunflowers was to express joy——to symbolise loyalty, adoration and the truth. and oikawa is a sunflower. the biggest and brightest sunflower the world had ever seen. he was loyal to a fault. he was adored. and the truth was . . . he was blind. they say love is blind. icarus was so blinded by his love for the sun that he fell to his death / but / oikawa never understand that notion until he had fallen himself. he believed that love was easy. it was easy as breathing. it was keeping that love floating that he found difficult. his parents were a prime example. careless i love you’s were thrown around the house with the same ease of setting up for the perfect spike, and eventually those i love you’s disappeared and were replaced with “ we still love you.” or “ it’s not your fault.” you see, sunflowers ( well flowers in general) have the tendency to follow the sun, just like icarus. except, in this case . . .the sun was love, and oikawa, the stupid fool, continued to follow it. he uprooted himself form the ground, dragged his body across the world, and refused to settle until he caught up with the sun. ( spoiler alert: he never did.)

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⠀⠀⠀‣⠀⠀𝐕 𝐀 𝐍 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋 𝐀

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vanilla. short. simple. plain. everything that oikawa was and was not. a contradiction really? he was plain but he was extraordinary——extraordinary ordinary as some may call him. to him, vanilla was safe. or so he thought. as it turns out, the origin of vanilla begins with abandonment. it represents the abandonment of love and for love. it represents the strength to love again. to move forward. and that is what oikawa was. he was vanilla because despite the amount of people who left him, or who he had left, he still found it in him to open his heart again. to learn to love again. to continue on and find someone who would truly appreciate him for who he was. he was vanilla because . . . only those who stripped themselves bare before him would be able to truly appreciate him as a person. he was vanilla because it was an acquired taste, people thought it was too bland or too boring. they always prefer the flashy flavours like bubble-gum or chocolate. but he was vanilla, he was plain and simple. and yet, he wasn’t.

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